


Here we are now, entertain us

by TheCowJumpedOverTheMoon



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Cole Anderson, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Cole is a Jericho fanboy, Connor is an awkward disaster, Connor just wants to settle down bless his heart, Connor plays bass, Everyone is a little OOC sorry, Everyone is alive and it's nice, Hank is a good dad just trying his best, Idiots in Love, Jericho is a rock band, M/M, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, No Androids, No revolution, North is nice really, One Shot, Rockstar Connor, Security guard Hank Anderson, Serenading, this is the cheesiest au I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 12:43:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20815373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCowJumpedOverTheMoon/pseuds/TheCowJumpedOverTheMoon
Summary: Hank is somewhat mortified when Cole wants to go to a Jericho show, Detroit's very own world-famous rock band.  He has a bit of an in, thanks to time spent working security at their shows, and maybe he can even get his star-struck kid backstage.However, his complicated relationship with Connor threatens to ruin everything. Will Hank be able to confront Connor, after everything?





	Here we are now, entertain us

When Cole had asked him, no, near enough _begged_ him to go to the Jericho concert, Hank found himself hard pressed to say no. Cole was a good kid, and a grateful one at that - he rarely asked for anything more than what Hank provided with his meagre security guard salary. He considered his son a little young for rock shows, but he at least appreciated that he'd had the decency to ask him rather than sneaking out and going with his friends behind his back. What Hank had done when he was too young to go to rock shows.

It wasn't that he considered Jericho to be a band he didn't want his kid to see. It was clear from the many posters adorning his wall that the kid loved them right now, and the fact that they were back in the city right at the point when Cole had decided they were his newest obsession was lucky. But Hank knew he'd be working the gig as security, just like he had the few times their tour had come back to town. Detroit was their hometown, and often they'd celebrate the occasion by doing a string of local shows. 

If anything, his long standing stint doing security at their shows meant he had the potential to even ask the band to meet his son and grab a photo. They were all on pretty good terms after all; they seemed the kind to really appreciate the hard work the stage-hands put in, and Hank wasn't shy or unfriendly, so the number of times he'd struck up conversations with front-man Markus between rehearsals were plenty. North was as standoffish as her public persona suggested, but even the elusive attitude she portrayed hadn't stopped her striking up an unlikely camaraderie with Hank. They respected one another, and Hank never got too over-friendly with her - and he had the feeling she appreciated his no-nonsense attitude and dry sense of humour nonetheless. He wasn't as chummy with Josh or Simon, but a friendly hello when passing through the venue wasn't uncommon, and they were at least on a first-name basis.

No, Hank wasn't worried about the band meeting his son. Or, at least, he wasn't worried about _most_ of them.

He felt his eyes following him everywhere, just like in those old paintings, whenever he found himself in Cole's room. He tried not to focus on it too much, tried to look at every other band member but Connor. Ignoring the problem was definitely the easiest solution, Hank figured, but the fact that his son seemed to consider the bassist his favourite band member, and therefore had his picture plastered all over his walls, had done little to help the problem he'd found himself in. 

It was easy to understand - Connor was very charismatic; striking an unusual balance between effortlessly cool whilst being perfectly understated. He made no efforts to try and steal the limelight from Markus, who seemed quite happy to be front and centre anyway, but his boyish good looks and charm still made him popular amongst their younger fans. The soft waves of hazelnut curls that fell across his forehead, the scattering of occasional freckles that complimented his soft features and soft chestnut eyes made him an unsurprising poster boy. 

Unlike Markus, who exuded a kind of messiah-like aura that naturally fed into his almost cultish fanbase, pulled in by his ethereal good looks and larger than life stage presence, Connor's charm lay in his accessibility. He was down to earth, a self-taught musician who came from humble beginnings. That accessibility, his attainability made him popular amongst young aspiring musicians; believing they too could work hard and become a world famous rock-star. 

Hank couldn't help but feel these traits, so easily visible to the public, whilst true, barely even scratched the surface of the man's personality. He was kind, perhaps too kind, Hank thought. He had time for everyone, and would speak to everyone with the utmost sincerity and respect. He was humble too - more so than one would expect of a highly skilled, self-taught musician. As well as being the bands bassist, he composed the vast majority of their melodies, and he had a keen interest in production and sound design that he utilised during recording sessions - something Hank had heard him gush about his passion for at great length on more than one occasion. It never came across as boasting or self-importance, it was clear he had a truly authentic love for what he did. 

He was intelligent too - Hank had been surprised the first time he'd started citing psychological papers when he had off-hand mentioned that Cole had been experiencing some teething problems at school. Of course, he was always right; Hank had tried his suggestions and they'd worked wonders. Being a single parent was tough, and he was always wary of taking advice from strangers - although Connor was hardly a stranger - but he was glad he'd made an exception. You could ask Connor about almost any subject and he'd reel off extensive facts unprompted. Hank had taken to calling him a 'human wikipedia', which always seemed to get a chuckle out of the other man.

He had no doubts that Cole would be absolutely smitten with Connor if he met him. Not just because of his love for the band and the musician whose career he followed adamantly, but as a person on the whole. And somehow that made everything _so_ much worse. If he knew they wouldn't get on, then Hank's choice would be clear. He could cast the whole thing aside, clear conscience and all. 

It really did seem like everything was working against him. He really would need to take Cole to this damn concert. Groaning, he pulled his phone from his pocket, thumbing a number in and putting it to his ear.

"Hey Jeffrey. I'm gonna need someone to cover my shift next week…"  
_____________

Hank was thankful Jeffrey was able to get the cover; unfortunately for everyone else on shift it was Reed, but hey, Hank was entitled a day off every once in a while. If he possessed any semblance of courage he would have messaged Connor - to warn him about Reed if nothing else. He wasn't well liked, which was no surprise given the man's poor attitude and all round awful personality. Still, he was sure they'd make do. Just because he'd built up something of a camaraderie with the band didn't mean someone else couldn't do the job efficiently. 

Hank insisted they not stand too close to the front - Cole was still a kid, after all, and if he was going to bring him to a show he was at least gonna set down some ground rules. He was quite thankful that the audience was predominantly made up of teenagers and kids not much older than Cole - even if it did make him stick out like a sore thumb - a middle aged man in a room filled with damn teenagers. They found a comfortable spot to stand near the bar with a side-view of the stage, and Hank was thankful for his job for once because Chloe was working and she let Cole perch on the far side to get a better view of the stage. 

The show went off without a hitch; Hank caught a sidewards glance of Reed stalking in front of the stage, looking as unfriendly as ever. The band seemed in good spirits, and Hank tried to convince himself that he didn't flinch when Connor made his way on the stage, nor did he try his best to look elsewhere and busy himself by talking to Chloe when he noticed his eyes sweep across the audience. 

He had to admit though, after months of hearing their music in the abstract whilst working, it was good to finally watch them. It was easy to see why Markus had built up such a loyal fanbase; his on stage presence oozed charisma, and it was clear to see that the whole band had so much spirit and enthusiasm for putting on a good show. It was clear that Cole was absolutely besotted by all of them too, bobbing his head along and quietly whooping whenever they announced the name of the next song. Even Hank was hard-pressed to not tap his fingers along to the beat as he leant on the bar.

As the show came to a close, Hank continued to chat to Chloe, introducing Cole as the room began to clear. He made his apologies to Cole, saying they'd at least need to speak to Reed before they left. 

"Best to just keep your head down - he's not the most friendly of guys," was his word of warning to his son, who shrugged his shoulders, still in the hazy afterglow of seeing his favourite band perform live. "I should at least thank him for covering my shift."

As they made their way to the front of the stage, he caught Reed's eye, who barely even offered him a look of acknowledgement. Hank gave him a half-hearted wave of acknowledgement as he approached, tilting his head to Cole as he did in the hopes that Reed at least had enough sense to not curse in front of his damn kid.

"Hey, Gavin,"

"Well, look who it is," drawled the ever-enthusiastic security guard. "Didn't realise you were a fan."

"I'm here for Cole really," Hank replied, motioning to the boy stood quietly next to him. "Gavin, this is my son, Cole,"

Cole shot Gavin a polite smile, and the man simply nodded in acknowledgement. To be honest, it was probably the most manners he could expect from him. 

"Thanks again for covering on such short notice."

"You owe me big time, old man."

Hank rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Well you just let me know when you need the favour returned. Okay night?"

Gavin shrugged his shoulders, stretching his arms out behind him dramatically. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Connor was asking after you though,"

Hank noticed Cole's ears prick at the mention of his favourite band member, and Hank reacted similarly. He knew bait when he heard it. "Probably just used to me working is all,"

Gavin wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning in ever so slightly. "I dunno, he seemed _real_ disappointed when I told him you weren't working."

"Can't blame him, anyone would be disappointed when they realised they had you on shift," Hank shot, refusing to rise to the bait. It seemed to do the trick, because Gavin huffed, and rolled his eyes. 

"Anyway, I've got shit to be getting on with, so if you don't mind…" The man turned sharply on his heels, offering a raised hand as he walked away in lieu of a goodbye. Well, that could have gone worse, but hey, if nothing else Hank took pride in the fact that he at least had some manners.

"Anderson!" a sharp voice called, and both Anderson's turned to see North poking her head around the side of the stage. "I thought it was you," 

She stalked across the stage with grace, lowering herself down off the stage into the pit to meet them. "Can't believe you bailed on us and left us with _this_ shit-stain," she motioned a thumb at Gavin, who was already making his way hastily backstage, mumbling something under his breath.

"_Language_," Hank warned, "I'm here with Cole," He put a supportive arm around his son, motioning him to move forward. "North, this is my son, Cole."

North's eyes widened a little in surprise, before she tilted her head to the side to look Cole up and down, before sticking a hand out. "Good to meet you, Cole. Your dad's alright, so I'm gonna assume you're cool."

Cole's eyes widened before he took North's hand, shaking it with enthusiasm. "I am cool!" He replied suddenly, not a hint of certainty in his voice much to North's amusement. When their hands parted, she gave him a friendly pat on the back before shoving her hands in her pockets and leaning back against the stage, crossing one leg over the other.

"You think you're cool enough for me to let you backstage?" North shot Hank a knowing smirk just as Cole gasped and nearly spluttered out a 'yes'. 

"I'm gonna need to quiz you first. Just to make sure." Cole nodded, and Hank gave his son some space, choosing to lean crossed arms onto the barrier by the stage. This was all on him.

"Okay, what was our first album?"

"Blue Blood!" Cole sang without missing a beat.

"Good, but maybe I'm being too easy on you. What was the name of the band before we called ourselves Jericho?"

"_Kill Kamski_. But the uh, record label didn't like it, so you changed it,"

"Right you are, and a bonus point for the extra detail," North nodded, raising her eyebrows in approval, which saw a smile spread across the young boys face. "They said it was '_too aggresive',_ so lame." She rolled her eyes as she recalled the memory, clearly still a sore point for her. "Markus' last name?"

"Manfred."

"Right again. Connor's last name?"

"Stern."

"Hopefully not for much longer," she murmured under her breath, purposefully loud enough for Hank to hear. The tips of his ears reddened and he frowned, shooting North a warning glance, which she naturally, ignored. "Okay, okay, just one more. What's my favourite song to play live?"

That one seemed to have Cole stumped, and he pulled a face like he was trying his hardest to focus all of his energy into conjuring an answer. After a moment, he replied, "_Freedom_, oh, no, actually, I change my mind. Is it _Escaping Eden_?" 

She shot Cole a long, hard look, betraying nothing as the boy fidgeted and twitched under her gaze, before clapping his shoulder and smiling. "Nice work, Cole. Guess your dad taught you a thing or two."

Hank raised his hands in defense. "Nope, that was all him. I couldn't name a single one of your songs." 

North chuckled under her breath, shaking her head lightly as she walked towards the stage door, beckoning for Cole to follow her. She made a comment about having to bring the 'old man' with them too, and Hank found himself following his son backstage, an unmistakable spring in the younger boys step.  
_____________

That night had been the same as all the others to begin with. He chatted with the band as they did the sound check, and he recalled that Connor seemed in good spirits, a little more talkative than normal. Right before the show started, the usual nerves set in - Connor got nervous before every show - but this seemed different. He recalled seeing Markus pull him aside and whisper what he assumed were words of encouragement - he wasn't sure what was said, but the pep talk seemed to do the trick because when the lights came down and the show began it was like every other performance.

Hank had his back to the band as he always did, hawk-eyed and trained on the audience to make sure nothing was out of place. The usual gathering of screaming teenage hoards filled his vision - rowdy, but not unpredictable. And everything was just like every other night, until Markus' words took him by surprise halfway into the show.

"Tonight we have something a little different planned because we'd really like to share a new song with you all." The audience roared in approval, the metal bars keeping the fans a safe distance from the stage shaking. "But this time we're going to do something a little different because _Connor_ will be leading this one for us." 

The sound of the crowd's cheers felt muffled against Hank's ears as he turned his head slowly towards the stage, just as Markus handed an acoustic guitar to Connor and took a bow, taking a step back as the bass player moved to the centre of the stage. A stage-hand pulled up a chair and lowered the microphone as Connor sat down centre-stage, fiddling with the strap of the guitar before leaning into the microphone.

"Hello, everyone." The crowd erupted into applause and Connor let out a gentle laugh. "This isn't normally my style so I'd appreciate it if you didn't heckle me when I mess it up." The crowd laughed. 

"We've been working on this for a while, it's still a work in progress though. I wrote this about someone really special, and I hope they hear this and understand how I feel about them, because I'm not too good at saying this sort of thing out loud." He paused, contemplating for a moment. "You know, so I'm announcing it in front of an audience of hundreds." The crowd laughed and cheered, a few wolf whistles coming from further back. 

"Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it." 

The audience cheered, and Hank felt the shaking of the bars again. He suddenly remembered where he was, and what he was there to do, and began shifting his body weight back around to face the crowd again before the song began. But not before Connor's gaze met his and he smiled shyly, ducking his head back down quickly as he began to strum the strings. Hank tried his utmost to focus on the audience and just do his damn job.

_Oh I'm sorry I broke it_  
_Never forgive me_  
_Your love is the hopeless_  
_Light that I need_  
_To remind me I'm living  
_ _And that I still need it_

He was immediately struck by how beautiful Connor's voice was, the usually soft velveteen tones complimented with a hint of gravelliness as he sang. 

_You pulled me together_  
_With blood and soft stitches_  
_You're proof that I'm breathing_  
_And that I still need_  
_To be loved and to hear you  
_ _Whisper to me _

_You're enough_  
_You're enough  
_ _You're enough_

Hank recalled his conversation with Connor when Cole had been experiencing problems at school. Hank had confided in him, explained that he couldn't offer his son much as a single father with an average-salary job. He worried that he wasn't as engaged as he should be as a parent, that he should be more present, more loving. Connor had smiled to himself, patting Hank on the shoulder and reassuring him that Cole couldn't ask for a better father. His words had stayed with him. 

"He's a kid, Hank. He doesn't want a Dad with a fancy job. By all accounts it seems you treat him as your equal - you respect him, and you offer him boundaries. Just because you don't smother him with love, it doesn't mean you're not doing a good job. _You're enough._ He knows that. _I know that._" 

Hank felt his fingernails digging into his upper arms as he remained with them crossing his chest, watching the crowd intently. 

_Well I'm a self-centered writer_  
_Loving myself to sin_  
_Stay away from me_  
_Don't find a way to get in_  
_I care only for art and career  
_ _So scared of death that I try to leave part of me here_

Hank couldn't help but think back to another conversation they'd had weeks earlier. He'd made a light hearted jest about Connor being in love with his craft, his music, and an unusual seriousness had fallen across the younger man's face, and he'd replied in earnest that he cared about "_so much more than that_". 

Hank had felt ashamed, a misstep he knew he should have been more attentive of; Connor had opened up to him before about his worries that his career as a musician, the travelling, the endless recording sessions, would hinder him from ever being able to settle down. "_It wasn't something I thought about much until recently_" he'd mused. Hank raised his eyebrows, asking Connor if he'd met a nice young thing on tour. Connor had simply smiled and turned away. 

_I am lonely_  
_Lonely in the fact that I need to be loved  
_ _And told I am deserving_

Hank felt his throat constrict as he took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his composure as he watched the crowd look past him at the performer on the stage, near silent and enamoured by the exclusive and intimate performance.

_We let us be, just to be_  
_Isn't that all we should need_  
_We need  
_ _We should need_

God, if he could just turn around to look at Connor for just a second, maybe he could understand if this was all just coincidental...

_But the truth is I need you_  
_To tell me I'm worthy_  
_Of all this great living  
_ _That I've been doing_

Telling himself that the audience could be trusted to behave themselves for a minute, Hank gave in and spun on his heels to see Connor, head bowed down as his fingers meticulously strummed at the strings. 

_And I'm sick of the silence_  
_Greets me when I go to bed_  
_And the waking in a cold sweat_  
_After all I'm an artist_  
_And I've still got songs in me yet_  
_And I'm frightened  
_ _Frightened to death you'll forget_

Well, _shit._

They'd been packing up at the end of another show, the last in the area before they moved on to another stint of International shows. Hank was of course, only employed by the venue, so he wouldn't be joining them. He had Cole to think about, after all. He could hardly just go galavanting around the world with a band. 

Hank had teased them when they'd said their goodbyes, telling them they'd forget about him in no time while they were whisked off into a life of excitement overseas. As they'd exchanged hugs and well-wishers with the rest of the regular stage-hands, Connor had remarked that if anything, Hank would forget him. 

"I bet you work with so many musicians, Hank. I'll just be a speck in your memory before you know it," Hank knew the kid was joking, but there was an underlying sadness in his voice, a slight quiver in his tone. 

"As if I could forget someone like you, Connor," he'd replied, squeezing his shoulder affectionately.

The man had looked up at him with such a hopeful gaze, and Hank had pulled him into a tight hug. It was cute, the way he thought Hank could forget about any of them, much less Connor. 

As he watched their tour van fade into the distance into the dark streets of Detroit, Hank had been overcome with a sudden feeling of regret and anxiety. He should have known better than to fall for a bright young thing like Connor, no less a world famous musician. Yet here he was, watching him leave, the sudden realisation dawning on him. He had _feelings_ for Connor.

_Don't forget  
_Don't forget me__

Seemingly feeling Hank's eyes on him, Connor looked up, and a light blush settled across his cheeks as he stared back, a private smile crossing his lips. Hank couldn't help but shoot him a lopsided grin in return.

_I guess that's the most_  
_Honest thing I've written yet_  
_So here goes_  
_Forgive me I'll sing it again_  
_Don't forget  
_ _Don't forget me_

Connor bowed his head, pulling back from the microphone as a shaky breath escaped his lips. The room fell completely silent for a moment before the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. Connor rose from his seat, dipping his head modestly before lifting the guitar over his head and uttering a quiet 'thank you' before returning the instrument to a clapping Markus. 

The frontman began to utter Connor's praises to the audience, but Hank barely heard the words, choosing instead to focus on Connor's smile, his gentle eyes that seemed to hypnotise him. As though turning away from their shared eye contact at this point would be almost painful. The man on the stage picked up his bass, shooting Hank a knowing grin before turning back to the audience. 

Stunned for a moment, Hank pulled himself together and turned back to the crowd, but for the remaining four songs he couldn't help but count the seconds until the show ended. 

Once the crowds had cleared and the breakdown of the stage had begun, Hank near enough ran backstage, and soon found himself in front of one of the storerooms, hesitating for a moment before knocking on the door. When it opened he was faced with a sheepish looking Connor, who seemed somewhat surprised to see him.

"How did you find me?" Connor was usually self assured, carrying a quiet confidence. Now though, his voice was meek, almost shy.

"I know you better than you realise, kid. You always hide out after a show. Never were a fan of the after-party." 

He shot the younger man an uncharacteristic smile as he leant on the door frame (Hank was always in a perpetual state of grumpiness, or so most people told him, but he couldn't help smiling whenever Connor was around) before shuffling his feet to re-adjust his stance, folding his arms.

"What you said out there. Was that really...did you mean to…?" 

He was embarrassed by just how sheepish he'd become, unable to even ask the question that had been plaguing him for what felt like an eternity out loud.

Hank recalled the suddenness of it all, being pulled into the storeroom with surprising strength, the door slamming shut behind them. Being pushed back into the door with equally impressive strength, Connor's hands gripping him by his collar as plush lips crashed into his, gentle moans of pleasure coming from both of them as Hank rolled his hips up against the other man. Sharp nails dug into his scalp as he left a trail of butterfly kisses along the musicians neck down to his collarbone, barely suppressed whimpers threatening to send him over the edge before they'd even begun. 

Before he knew it, they'd switched places, both of them undressed from the waist down, Connor's legs wrapped tightly around Hank's waist. The sound of his name being called over and over again like a mantra as he ground into the other man with urgency, whispering sweet nothings into the younger man's ear as he whined in desperation. The sweat and the sound of shaky breaths as they both came in unison, Hank nuzzling his face into the man's shoulder as he regained his composure, one hand resting on the wall and another pulling up the zipper of his pants. 

He remembered looking up into the same eyes that started back at him now from across a crowded room, and not recognising the feeling that lay behind them. Was it disgust, disappointment? _Regret?_

At the time he'd been so sure that he knew what those eyes were saying, but now, he wasn't so sure. Now all he could see was sadness.

____________________

"_Hey._"

Hank's eyes shot up at the sound of his voice, _that_ voice. The one that haunted his dreams every night when he was trying his hardest to just go to sleep and forget about everything. They'd barely even made it back stage, and Hank had been given almost no time to prepare for this inevitable encounter. They'd just turned a corner, and there he was.

Connor couldn't hide the look of surprise that coloured his face, mouth ever so slightly ajar, his limbs frozen in place, fingertips twitching at his side. 

"Hey, yourself." Hank felt a chill spread up his spine, and tried his best to look like someone who wasn't completely terrified. He wasn't convinced it was working.

"I thought you weren't coming." Connor's voice was quieter than usual. Almost nervous.

They stared at one another for a long moment, letting the silence continue to fill the air. Hank broke it by clearing his throat with a cough, the hand gripped tightly at Cole's shoulder loosening as he looked down at his son, who simply looked back at him with an expression somewhere between confusion and awe.

"Ah. You must be Cole." Connor's gaze softened, a bright smile spreading across his lips as he strode forward and reached an outstretched palm towards his son. The boy took it, completely silent, mouth agape as Connor shook his boneless hand. "I've heard _so much_ about you."

"Yeah, he wanted to come to the show so I said I'd take him. He's become _quite_ the fan." 

"Has he now?" Connor glanced up at Hank, shooting him a cheeky grin before returning his attention to Cole. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"It was amazing!" Cole gushed, his beaming smile spread ear to ear. Hank didn't miss the slight stammer that overtook voice.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it," Connor replied warmly, "It's such a lovely surprise to finally meet you. I hope we played some of your favourite songs."

"All of them!" Cole replied abruptly, before opening his mouth again and casting his gaze upwards as though trying to recall Jericho's entire back catalogue. "Actually, there were one or two you didn't play." 

"Well, you can tell me which ones and we'll make sure we play them for you the next time you come to a show. How does that sound?"

"That would be so cool!" The boy grinned.

Hank was unable to suppress the smile creeping across his lips, and he found himself caught in Connor's gaze momentarily as he smiled back at him, a light flush colouring the man's cheeks before he turned away abruptly.

"Cole, do you wanna come and meet the rest of the band?" North interrupted, taking a step forward and reaching an outstretched hand to beckon to Cole. 

The boy's gaze shot up to his father for approval, who simply shrugged his shoulders. "Don't see why not."

"Yes please!" He cried.

"Alright then. Your dad can come and meet us after. I think he's got some '_work stuff_' to sort out." Hank found his eyes meeting North's as she spoke, and he didn't miss the firm look she shot him before returning to look at Cole and smiling sweetly.

"Fine, but be on your best behaviour," Hank warned. "_Both_ of you!"

North rolled her eyes dramatically, placing a hand on Cole's shoulder to lead him out of the room, not before snapping her head back towards Connor, motioning to Hank with a knowing glance, eyebrows raised in silent warning.

Hank heard the door slam shut, leaving just the two of them in the room. He felt his palms grow clammy, heat rising in his chest. He knew he should apologise, knew he should be the first one to talk, but he couldn't find the words. Why was this so difficult? He'd always found Connor so easy to talk to. More than anyone else.

"I was worried you'd _quit_." Connor whispered. "When you didn't show at the rehearsal."

Hank's heart plummeted in his chest. "I'm sorry, Con, I should have told you."

"It's okay," he replied, looking at the floor. "I understand why you didn't." There was a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Look, it's not anything you did, I _need_ you to understand that," Hank started, taking a step closer. "I was _scared_. I know that's stupid, but it's the truth." He took a deep, measured breath before continuing. "I didn't tell Cole...about us. And I didn't want to say anything to him when I didn't exactly know where we stood."

Connor glanced up suddenly, the dim light of the room catching the light in the irises of his eyes so they almost looked like they were glowing. "Where do you think we stand, exactly?"

Hank was quiet for a moment, ruminating over the question. "Honestly, I don't know, Connor." He sighed, running a hand shakily through his hair, pushing strands of silver back across his scalp. 

They both remained silent for a while, neither choosing to make eye contact. The silence was awkward, but not uncomfortable.

"Did you think it was a _mistake_?" 

Connor's voice was so quiet, Hank barely even heard it, even in the silence of the empty room.

"What?"

"What happened. Do you regret it." It wasn't a question. It seemed like Connor was resigned to Hank's answer before he'd even been given the opportunity to voice it.

"No." He shot. "_Never_." 

Connor's face flew up abruptly, a look of genuine surprise and confusion crossing his face. His gaze softened, and Hank found their eye contact almost magnetic once again, as though he'd struggle to pull away and stare at anything but the other man's hazel eyes. He'd missed this. God, he'd missed _him_.

Connor's voice was so quiet now that he almost missed it. "Then why did you run away?"

Hank felt all of the air suddenly leave his lungs, and he struggled to take a breath. Heat prickled at the back of his neck.

"Because I was _ashamed_." It was Hank's turn to murmur now. "I saw something in your face that I thought was regret, and I thought I'd read the whole situation wrong. I'd been feeling this way about you for so long and I didn't stop to think that maybe this was just a fling for you."

Connor let out a sharp laugh, sarcastic in its tone but not unkind. "Who the hell writes a song about someone just to have a _fling_, Hank?"

Hank was fairly certain it was the first time he'd heard Connor curse, and he couldn't help but laugh. At Connor cursing, and at the whole stupid situation they'd found themselves in. "Fuck. I'm an idiot."

"You are," The other man scoffed, but his frown had lifted and he caught Connor near enough grinning back at him. 

Hank read the room and thought - _fuck it._ He marched closer, until mere inches separated them. As Connor tilted his head up to look at him man, Hank found himself wordlessly resting his palm on the other man's cheek, cupping it as Connor leant into the touch. 

"I only wish it had happened sooner," He murmured, letting the pads of his fingertips trail across the man's smooth skin as Connor made a gentle hum of approval. "And I wish I'd not been so stupid as to not fuckin' call you after. Christ. I'm an _idiot_."

"You're _not_," Connor affirmed, moving his hands forward to rest on his chest. "Well, if you are, then I am too." 

"Nah. You're the smartest person I've ever met." 

"It's not like I did anything to try and rectify the situation either, Hank. Besides, throwing myself at you after professing my love through song was hardly the most sensible way to tell you how I felt." He felt the man laugh softly as Connor leant his forehead against his chest. Hank stilled, grasping Connor's shoulders and pulling him back to look him in the eye.

"Now, I'm fairly sure you never said anything about _love_ before, Connor."

"Oh." A furious blush mixed with the dusting of freckles on the man's cheeks and if Hank wasn't already completely besotted with this man, then he damn sure would be now.

"You know, North said something about you needing a new last name." Hank found himself running gentle kisses across Connor's crown as he spoke, the younger man freezing up beneath him as he pulled him into a tight embrace. "I know I totally screwed this up, but if you'd be willing to give me a chance to make it right, I'm thinking maybe a bold gesture is just the right thing in this scenario. What do you say?"

"Mmm," Connor hummed with contentment beneath him as Hank continued to leave a trail of kisses; across his forehead, his brow, his cheekbones. "Now who's the one being dramatic,"

"I'm _serious_, Con." 

He felt soft fingertips dig into his upper arms. "Now you're just teasing me."

"Well, Cole already loves you, and he loves you even more now he's met you. I mean, if he didn't like you it'd be a no brainer honestly, but he's pretty taken by you. We've been going about this whole thing the wrong way anyway, and I'm too old to be beating around the bush now."

"You'd grow tired of me," Connor sighed. "You both would."

"And you had the nerve to say _I'm_ dramatic," Hank scolded, running his nails across Connor's scalp in soothing motions. "Come on, Con. I'm fuckin' _crazy_ about you. If anyone should be paranoid, it's me. I'm a middle-aged single dad who works as a security guard, and you're a young, cute musician in a famous rock band."

"You think I'm _cute_?" Connor teased, eyebrows raised and expression curious before Hank rolled his eyes and the younger man laughed. And God, when he laughed it was like everything fell into place. 

Hank lowered his head, and captured Connor's lips with his own. Soft and sweet, just as it should have been the first time. He felt the man smile into the kiss, his hands tightening around his waist to pull him into a closer embrace. 

They stayed that way for some time, just holding one another close, until Connor pulled back slightly as Hank made a gruff disapproving sound.

"Come on. We should find Cole. I have no doubt North is teaching him to play the drums right now."

Hank audibly grumbled. "Ugh, that's the last thing I need to wake me up in the middle of the night. Better nip that in the bud,"

Connor laughed, and took Hank's hand as they made their way out of the room further into the backstage area. When Connor moved to pull his hand away, shooting Hank a serious look before they entered the room where Cole no doubt was, the sounds of a boy laughing echoing through the walls, Hank shot him a lopsided smile, and held his hand tighter. He was done hiding this. 

Connor's gaze softened as he squeezed his hand, and they opened the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Whadupp. So I've been working on this for ages and it became pretty clear that this was definitely the lamest, tropey-ist thing I've ever written. Everyone is OOC. It's pure cheese. But that's kind of okay I guess. I'm a bit out of sync with writing so I just needed something nice to work on. 
> 
> If you're curious, the song in this is called The Pugilist by Keaton Henson.
> 
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed this very long one-shot!


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